Crying For Hope
by mirai-san
Summary: Takeru is deathly sick... What have I done? And Taichi- psshh... Taichi, what have you done to help? Well, funny I guess, how you're helping me to learn. I just wish I didn't have to resort to this. Takeru, please don't hate me. I love you, little bro.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm sorry, Takeru fans, I'm sorry!! ;__; This fic contains some major angst, particularly against Takeru, so please, don't flame me about it *dodges flames.* Other than that, read on! Comments are always welcome :)

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Crying for Hope

--Mirai--

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That stale room. It drove me crazy just to look in it, let alone walk into it. The windows were becoming dirty without someone to clean it. Pale sunlight shone through the plexi-glass, but looked like stormy mist in the room. And the bed. God, the bed. I hated it. The white sheets that have its own history... I wanted to rip it apart. But my sweet brother lied there, helpless... deathly scared. 

No, _I _was the one who was deathly scared. If Takeru was, he didn't show it.

He was only 8 then, I was 11, old enough to take care of him by myself. Although my brother was young, he has proven himself to be quite capable, so I trusted him to be independent. But now that over-protective feeling for my brother has recaptured me again.

Takeru was deathly sick. I didn't know how much longer he had to survive. At times, he'd start panting desperately for breath, and it always frightened me how tormented his expression was.

I was lying there at his hospital bed. Takeru had fallen asleep. I, on the other hand, had not slept in days; there was no way I could have.

My life was just shit. I was constantly involved in fights at school, and it concerned otosan a whole lot. I remembered the other day, some older kid in highschool confronted me, obviously drunk or under the influence of drugs. His name, Yukihiro or something, he threatened to kill me when he found out I had damaged his car. It wasn't much, just a deep dent at the front, but it seemed to have been a huge deal to him. 

He had weapons; I did not. Who would expect a fifth grader to carry a gun with him at all times? Yukihiro had pocket knife and a pistol... a .33 magnum, I think. Anyway, he pointed that gun to my head and screamed random curses, and I could smell the stench of alcohol hovering from his breath. 

It was rather embarrassing to have Taichi come to my rescue. After all, I was always considered to be the cool one next to him. But it was to my advantage that Taichi was talented in playing soccer. He kicked the gun from Yukihiro's hand and it clattered to the ground. From there, I had watched Taichi beat up the guy, who was just about twice his size. But Taichi was strong, and Yukihiro found that out.

Yukihiro had left us, putting away his knife and quickly scurrying away from Taichi, while explaining that he meant to harm, before he had disappeared from our sights.

I had pocketted the gun in my own possession before going home.

Returning to reality, I sighed with a heavy feeling in my heart. It was all my fault. Takeru had a hard time at school, with all the other second graders afraid to go near him. And it was all because of me that he had no friends.

No, wait. Negative self talk won't get me anywhere. It was funny how I was learning from Taichi, like I was the child and he was the mature, responsible adult. I recalled what he said to me just yesterday...

_I was moping during lunch period again. The entire school was unaware of Takeru's sickness. He was gone for quite some time now, but the student body had decided to overlook that. _

Was crying a good plan to help me get my mind off Takeru? Maybe not, but I chose to do it anyway. The halls were empty, so I stood by my locker, and simply sobbed until my tears refused to shed.

Unfortunately, the school's soccer team was walking past me after a successful game. I heard their joyous cheers and shouts of laughter, and it dug a deeper hole into my sorrowful heart. 

Taichi was at the end of the line, carrying a proud smirk, but he wiped it right off when he saw me. I tried to hide my face in my locker, but it was too late.

"Yamato-san?" he inquired, trying hard to stay spirited. "Why are you here?" 

Maybe he thought his happiness would cheer me up . Well, he should have known better.

I refused to smile for him. "Takeru's going to die, I know it."

"Yama-"

"Yes he is!" I persisted. "And it's all my fault! We never should have taken him to the Digital World when I knew he was too young to handle the atmosphere! And it's my fault he's going to die like this!"

"Yamato-san, it's not your fault!"

"He's going to hate me. He's always hated me. You were the one he loved, so why couldn't you have been his brother instead of me?!"

"There is no way. You two are related by blood," he told me. "You have a powerful relationship, and nothing will keep Takeru from thinking that!"

I shook my head, frustrated that Taichi wasn't agreeing with me. "No, that's not true! Anyone who says that is a liar! Dammit, you're a fucking liar!!"

"Yamato!"

Tears were now streaming down my face. "I should've watched him better, instead of letting him become independant. Maybe I was wrong to let him go; couldn't I have just protected him more? I shouldn't stayed at his side in the hospital, asking him if he needed anything. But no, I couldn't, because I'm a faggot! I'm a god damn fucking fa---"

A hard, powerful fist collided with my face. I recoiled in pain and my mouth shut immediately.

Taichi looked straight at me sternly. "Yamato-san, you are going to listen to me. Takeru-kun does not hate you! He is a smart, careful boy, and he doesn't need you to worry over him." He paused a moment and took a look at the bruise forming over my eye. "I'm not sorry for punching you like that. You deserved it. I know it may sound harsh, but believe it or not, I just did a favour for you. From now on, every time you talk about yourself like that, I will punch you with all my strength. And because I'm doing this for you.... any time I speak like that about myself, you are going to punch me like that, too."

"Tai-san..." I cried, speechless.

His fist was still clenched tightly, until he slowly released it. "I'll see you later, Yamato-san."

He walked away, catching up with the rest of his team-mates, while I was left to cry alone....

[Author's Note: Sorry to interrupt, but I have something to comment. Just above, Taichi says "any time I speak like that about myself, you are going to punch me like that too," and remember the episode in 02 where Taichi & Yamato go into the Digital World to save Agumon from the Kaiser, and Yamato punches Tai in the face when he talks negatively? Yes! That's exactly what that part of this fic is about! Ok with that aside, here's the rest of the story]

Otosan said nothing about the black eye when he returned home. He assumed that I was in another reckless fight, and he did not want to involve himself in that. Seems like everyone had stopped caring about me. Oh well, all the better. Then they wouldn't try to stop me when I started beating myself up. It was a great thing that no one even knew about my injuries. Because the truth was, I hurt myself more than any one else did, and I was more involved in my own fights than fights with other students. Which was more painful, forcing my fist through rough cement, or slashing my skin with cold knives? Dropping myself from tall heights hurted the most, I suppose. Hell, nothing was more painful than watching Takeru fall asleep, knowing that with each rest, he might never open his eyes again. I felt that I should have been the one suffering instead of him, so I tried to make it up to him by hurting myself. Of course, Takeru didn't even know about it....

Heh, poor guy... so oblivious... Wait, poor kaasan and otosan. What would they think after Takeru died, and then finding out the other son was suicidal??

"ONIICHAN!!!"

It felt as if a claw had reached out to grasp my heart all of a sudden.... dragging me back into reality.

"Takeru... TAKERU-CHAN!!!" I screamed.

His face suddenly became ghostly pale and his little fingers were clutching my hands so tightly that it hurt. Takeru's desperate panting became immensely urgent, as he released my hand to clutch his own head. Tears streamed down his face, while mine were unnaturally dry- tears could not form due to the cold clutch at my brain. There was absolutely nothing I could do; I found myself helplessly watching my brother suffer.

He was dying now.

His attack continued on for several minutes... DAMMIT, WHERE WERE THE NURSES!?? Shit, this is the price we pay for leaving Takeru at such a fucking cheap hospital! 

More minutes scrolled by... then it became hours.

Takeru's pain never subsided, but he had become slightly immune to it. However, it was not worth it.

My eyes never left his- those small, but wide eyes, with such dilated pupils.

I reached my last resort. I just hoped this was the right one. 

I snuck a hand into my pocket and withdrew the bully's gun in which I had kept. Slowly, hesitantly, with fumbling fingers, I took it out and pointed the barrow at Takeru's heart, securing my index finger around the trigger.

Oh God, so now I was able to cry...

There was a click as Takeru stopped shaking.

"Oniichan.... thank you........thank you..... please don't feel bad... don't kill yourself over me... onegai...... I love you.... oniichan......"

Bang.


End file.
